


I Dream of Djinni

by Brumeier



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: ushobwri, Djinni & Genies, First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Slash, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 16:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16371413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: John never expected to find a bottle, or the cranky genie who lived inside, on the ice fields of Antarctica. Now his life, and the lives of everyone on Earth, is about to change.





	I Dream of Djinni

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Monster Fest: Mythological, and Whatif_AU: Supernatural

There were a lot of unlikely places to find a bejeweled glass bottle, but an unbroken stretch of Antarctic ice shelf was probably one of the most unlikely. John had spotted it while flying some scientists around to different research stations, the thing glittering and sparkling in the sun. He’d noted the location and gone back when he didn’t have passengers along for the ride.

The bottle looked like something someone might find in the Khan el-Khalili _souq_ in Egypt, which John had been to once in the early days of his Air Force career. It had a fat bottom and a long neck, the whole of it encrusted with gold and jewels, including the chained stopper.

“How’d you get here?” John murmured as he turned it over and over in his hands.

Someone had to have left it there intentionally, but for what purpose? There didn’t seem to be anything inside, at least nothing that sloshed or made a noise. John wondered if he should open it. The contents could conceivably be a poisoned gas or powder, though who that would’ve been left for was anyone’s guess. A really lost penguin?

“Fuck it.”

John pulled out the stopper and then dropped the bottle when blue smoke started pouring out of it. Shit! It really was poison gas! He stumbled back, gloved hand covering his nose and mouth, which was already covered by a half balaclava in deference to the cold.

Okay, maybe not poison. The blue smoke was twisting upward from the neck of the bottle like a sinewy tornado, and right before John’s eyes it took on the shape of a man. A man who was coughing and waving the smoke away from his face.

“Enough already!” the man snapped. The smoke instantly dissipated, and John stared, hand still clamped over his mouth.

A man had appeared out of the smoke from the bottle. Just like a genie. He was even dressed like one, topless except for a heavily embroidered blue vest, and silvery harem pants on the bottom. But instead of the swarthy features John might expect from a genie, the guy was pale and freckled, and his light brown hair looked like it was receding. He had broad shoulders, though, and muscled arms, and blazing blue eyes.

“Where are we? Is this the seventh level of Hell? Why is it so cold?” Those blue eyes looked at John. “You look ridiculous. How many layers do you have on? This won’t do at all.”

He snapped his fingers and suddenly they were standing in what looked like an authentic English pub, complete with crackling fireplace and well-used dart board. It was completely empty, but there were two pints of Guinness on the bar.

“This is more like it.” The genie grabbed one of the pints and took a swallow, frothy white head leaving a little moustache on his crooked mouth. “That hits the spot. Okay. Let’s get this thing rolling. Who are you?”

“Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force.”

“Have a seat, Major. And take some of those clothes off before you get heat stroke.”

John dropped into the nearest chair after shrugging out of his down-filled coat. He took off the gloves and the balaclava but left the snow pants on. He wasn’t sure what to think. He obviously wasn’t dead, so poison gas could be ruled out. Maybe it was giving him hallucinations, which would be just as deadly if he was physically still out on the ice and had just removed his protective layers. It wouldn’t take long to freeze to death.

“Yes, I’m a djinni. No, you’re not imagining me. And no, I can’t read minds. But I’ve been doing this long enough to know what the typical reactions are.”

“You don’t look like a genie,” John said.

“Oh really? How many of them have you met?”

John had no response to that, so he helped himself to the Guinness that had migrated from the bar to his table. It wasn’t the kind of beer he normally enjoyed, but a guy stationed at the literal end of the Earth couldn’t afford to be picky.

“So, wishes?”

“That’s it then? You find yourself face-to-face with a djinni whose been around for thousands of years and, instead of asking insightful questions, it’s right to the wishes?” The genie shook his head and polished off his beer. “You mortals never cease to disappoint me.”

“You have to admit that’s what you’re most known for,” John pointed out. It was hot and stuffy in the pub and he wanted to take off the snow pants, but he only had thermals on underneath. “But if you want to tell me your life story, knock yourself out. Can I get some fish and chips to go with this? That’s not a wish, though. Just hungry.”

The genie gave him an intent look before snapping his fingers. A basket of battered fish and fries appeared on the table. He sat down across from John and helped himself to the food.

“This is good. I really miss food when I’m between jobs.”

That gave John pause. “What do you do with your downtime? Just hang out in the bottle?”

The genie shrugged. “It’s like being asleep. I’m aware of the passage of time, but that’s about all.”

“So there’s no living room in there?” John joked.

The genie rolled his eyes. “An _I Dream of Jeannie_ reference. How delightfully fresh. Please feel free to skip the _Aladdin_ quotes.”

“No references to itty bitty living space. Got it.”

The situation John found himself in was utterly improbable, and it was possible he’d suffered some sort of head trauma, but he figured he may as well have fun while he could. The glare he received from across the table just made him grin.

“Everyone’s a comedian. Okay, let’s get to the rules.”

“Why are there always rules?”

The genie snorted. “Without rules the universe would be chaos. Now pay attention.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Don’t tempt me. Okay.” He counted each rule off on his fingers. “No making anyone fall in love with you. No bringing anyone back to life. No traveling back in time to fix things, because messing with the time-space continuum is a pain in the ass. No killing anyone. No wishing for more wishes, either. You get three, end of story, so don’t think you can find a loophole.”

“Just to be clear, you _can_ do all of those things. You just don’t want to.”

“I’m giving you the benefit of my experience, Major. None of those things would make you a happier person or fulfill your life. And I may be tied to that damn bottle, but I get to choose what I will and won’t do.”

John wondered what that was like. In _Aladdin_ it had meant a life of servitude, moving from one master to another once the three wishes had been doled out. And who knew how many years in between, in that weird genie sleep, waiting for someone to let him back out. At least his military service had an expiration date.

“How much time do we have? Do I need to make all my wishes right now?”

“I literally have all the time in the world. And none of your people will know you’re gone, if you’re worried about that.” The genie ate the rest of the fish. “You want some dessert?”

Without waiting for an answer, he snapped his fingers and the pub vanished, replaced by a bistro with an excellent view of the Eiffel Tower. It was an eerie, empty version of Paris. Their table was covered in an array of pastries.

“You know what I love about the French?” the genie asked, stuffing something powdered in his mouth. “They’re not afraid of butter.”

“Must be nice not to have to worry about your cholesterol,” John replied. 

“I never said this job was without benefits. Also? You need a change of clothes.”

Another finger snap and John was dressed like someone from an old French film, with a beret on his head and a red scarf tied around his neck. He immediately removed both.

“Really?”

The genie grinned and switched that outfit out for a pair of jeans and a US Air Force t-shirt. It was a relief for John to be out of those snow pants and insulated boots, though he did feel a little like a Ken doll.

“Did I have a mix-up with the magical powers, or is your hair always like that?”

John put a protective hand on his head. “I have cowlicks.”

“No kidding. You know, one wish and I could take care of that for you.” The genie waggled his fingers at John.

“I’m not wasting a wish on my hair. Which is perfectly fine.”

“Well, what do you want, Major? World peace? An end to hunger?”

“Do many people wish for big stuff like that?”

“I’m sorry. Do you not watch the news? Do you _think_ anyone’s made a wish for world peace?” Another pastry was selected, this one filled with cream. “Mortals are selfish, self-serving creatures. No-one wants to save the world, they want stacks of cash and an easier life.”

John could well believe that, and the enormity of the responsibility involved with his wishes became obvious. Shouldn’t he try and make things better for as many people as possible?

“What would happen?” he asked. “In a world peace scenario?”

The genie looked thoughtful. “That’s a complex wish. Lots of factors to consider, including history and politics and economics. I’ll tell you this, too. A big wish like that? There’ll be unforeseen repercussions because the universe tends to compensate for such enormous changes.”

“Compensate how?”

“I may be a genius with immense powers, but even I don’t know that. Only one way to find out.”

Did he dare? John didn’t know what it would mean for his failing military career, or for his estranged father’s business, which dealt heavily in military contracts. But if he couldn’t bring back the dead, he could at least make things better for the living.

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” the genie asked in surprise. “Are you sure you don’t want to start with something smaller?”

“Why? Can’t you manage it?” John teased.

“Say the words, smart guy, and find out.”

“I wish for world peace.”

The genie’s eyes glowed blue and John swore he could feel waves of power just rolling off the guy. It only lasted a few seconds, and then those fingers were snapping, and Paris disappeared, replaced by a city sidewalk and a store window full of TV sets that were displaying a local news feed.

“That was fast,” John said, impressed. “Did it work?”

“Of course it did. Oh. Here come your repercussions now.”

The news feed was showing something that looked very much like a space ship hovering in the air above Washington DC.

_This smaller ship seems to have come from the large, pyramid-shaped mother ship that appeared over Alexandria, Egypt early yesterday morning. So far no contact has been made._

“Aliens?” John asked in disbelief. “World peace leads to aliens?”

“Mortals have battle written into their DNA,” the genie said. “You idiots love fighting, you don’t care who or why. With everyone feeling the love on Earth, the battle has to shift somewhere. On the positive side, now you mortals have a common enemy to help solidify your new peaceful unity. The universe is a tricky bitch, I warned you about that.”

“And if I wished the aliens away?”

The genie shrugged. “Something worse, undoubtedly.”

John felt a little sick. Had he just doomed all of humanity? There was no way they could fight against aliens who had the technology to cross the universe. It wasn’t like _Independence Day_ , where they could just use a laptop to send a virus and save the day. How many people would die because of John’s wish?

“You look like you could use a drink.”

The city sidewalk changed to a tropical beachside bar, and John found himself holding a coconut filled with something that smelled like rum and pineapple. He bypassed the straw and tipped the coconut, drinking it all in one go.

“It was a good wish,” the genie said consolingly. “And I’ll let you in on a secret, which I really shouldn’t do but whatever. Your military, and the military of several other countries, have programs in place to deal with aliens. And these aliens specifically. You just moved up their declassification timeline, that’s all.”

John wasn’t sure he could believe that, but he appreciated the effort. Surely the government couldn’t have kept an alien program hidden. Could they?

“I want to help,” he said. “I caused this, so I want to be involved in fixing it.”

“You have an over-developed sense of morality and responsibility,” the genie observed. He was drinking something fruity out of an impossibly large glass festooned with skewered fruit and little paper umbrellas. “You sure you don’t just want a couple million dollars?”

“I don’t need money.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re a paragon of human virtue.”

John scowled. “I’m no paragon. I just…I need to make a difference. I owe it to some people, the ones I couldn’t save.”

“Hero complex. Okay. Well, say the words. And when you and I part company you’ll be in on the action.”

“I wish I could be part of the…uh…”

“The SGC,” the genie prompted. “Stargate Command.”

“I wish I could be part of the SGC and fight aliens.”

The genie made a face. “Okay, that could’ve been worded better but I can work with it.”

His eyes glowed blue again, but he kept sipping at his drink like nothing else was happening. John nodded. One wish left. What would it be? He supposed he could ask for a resolution to his family issues, but that seemed wasteful; if he really wanted to, he could contact his father and try to work things out himself.

Maybe he could make himself into some kind of badass alien fighter? What would that entail? Superhuman powers?

He looked at the genie, every physical aspect ticking John’s boxes for attraction. Would DADT be gone as part of the world peace thing? He wondered if the genie ever indulged in a fling with the people he granted wishes to. Would that have to be a wish? And would that kind of wish be considered non-consensual? Because that wasn’t at all appealing.

John set his empty coconut on the bar and reached for another – there were several lined up and ready go – when he saw the jeweled bottle. One more wish and the genie would be back inside, sleeping and waiting for his next hapless wish-maker to stumble on the bottle.

“You know what we need? Barbeque.” 

The genie snapped his fingers and a table laden with food appeared. A full roasted pig, skewers of grilled vegetables and shrimp, ribs dripping with sauce. It smelled amazing. And looked an awful lot like a last meal.

“Do you like it?” John asked. “Being a genie?”

“Oh, now you’re asking about me?” The genie rolled his eyes and pulled a shrimp off a skewer with his teeth. “I like the power. I can go anywhere, do anything.”

“Until the wishes are spent.”

“Yes, well, that’s the nature of the job, isn’t it? Speaking of which, have you given any thought to your final wish? Because I have some suggestions if you need help. I think it might take the power of the universe to fix those cowlicks.”

John liked to think he was a good judge of character. The genie, for all his bombastic speech and prickly personality, seemed…lonely. Or maybe that was just John projecting his own feelings. Hadn’t he kept himself bottled up all these years? Metaphorically speaking, of course. He knew how it felt to be alone.

“There’s nothing wrong with my hair,” he protested. He helped himself to some of the roast pork. Who knew when he’d be eating that well again? “And yeah, I think I’m set for my last wish.”

“Oh. Well, good. That’s good.” The genie stuffed more meat into his mouth and made a hurry-up motion with his hand.

“I wish you were free from whatever keeps you tied to that bottle.”

The genie choked on his food and John quickly passed him one of the drinks from the bar. He refrained from pounding the genie on the back. No sense touching him now when they’d just be parting ways.

“Why did you do that? Why did you give your last wish to me?”

“Because you shouldn’t have to be stuffed back in the bottle,” John said with a shrug, like it didn’t really matter.

“But…you said the words. I can’t give it back now.”

“I don’t want it back.”

“There’ll be repercussions.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

The genie looked like he had tears in his eyes, but then they were glowing a bright, intense blue and the waves of power nearly knocked John off his feet. 

And then he was standing in the snow, wearing all his cold-weather gear, like nothing had ever happened.

**Two Days Later**

John looked curiously around the room, though perhaps chamber would be a better word. It turned out there was a secret military base not far from McMurdo. He’d just delivered a General – the fighting aliens wish had yet to reach fruition, though he had faced down a weird type of drone – and now was waiting for someone to tell him what to do.

The chair seemed to call to him somehow, like an insistent buzzing in the back of his mind. The General had told him not to touch anything, but surely taking a load off would be okay. 

It wasn’t okay.

The chair reclined as soon as John sat in it, and he was surrounded by a soft blue glow. His fingers dug into the gel pads on the arm rests and he could feel a connection to…something. Something big. Something important.

“Major,” said a familiar voice. “Think about where we are in the universe.”

John did, and a holographic representation of the solar system appeared over his head. He barely spared it a glance, instead looking at the man who stood next to the chair dressed in an orange fleece pull-over. For just an instant, his eyes glowed blue.

His wishes really were coming true.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** The idea of Rodney being a genie really struck me as funny, though this fic took a more serious tone with the wishes. And now you can contemplate a battle against the Wraith with a genie on Atlantis. ::grins::


End file.
